Tripping
by ScribblinDaydreamer
Summary: Iceland and Hong Kong are tired of their families stalking them all the time and decide to take a trip in secret with Mr. Puffin and Mr. Panda. Fluff. Humour. A bit of crack. A lot of caffeine. Pairings: HongIce featuring Romerica, Sufin and Dennor. Rated T for not really any reasons.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Fluff, crack, and humour. In a shitty fanfic. HongIce featuring Romerica.

Hong Kong and Iceland sit in a café together, the Asian nation flicking through his manga with the Nordic nation scanning a newspaper, calmly chewing on his liquorice. Neither of them break the peaceful mood of the charming little place; the gentle hum of traffic outside the large glass windows, the soft clinking of coffee cups, the murmur of quiet conversation, and the burning stares of their siblings. They carry on as usual, refusing to acknowledge the poorly disguised Scandinavians and East Asians hiding in booths on opposite sides of the room.

'Aww, Ice looks cute in his reading glasses,' Denmark comments fondly.

'Shut up, fuckbag,' Norway growled with barely suppressed rage. 'If that kid lays a hand on my baby brother I'm going to flog him.'

Denmark shrugs and sighs at Norway's overprotective attitude, but Sweden is a little worried.

'I'd suggest you not,' the giant blonde mutters. 'We got rid of all our pirate gear ages ago, anyway.'

'You can borrow some of my gear!' Finland offers cheerfully with a smile.

'You… have weaponry? In your house?' Denmark stares down at the tiny man.

'Why do you think Russia respects me so much?' Finland asks, cocking his head cutely.

The other Nordics shiver in response.

Across the room, the East Asians aren't handling the situation well either.

'Japan, put the camera away, aru!' China hisses quietly. 'You'll expose us!'

'But I promised Hungary…' Japan began, but is cut off by Taiwan snatching his camera away.

'Another time,' the sweet girl chides him, pulling the batteries out and pocketing them. 'You too, Korea!' She snaps the boy's phone shut.

'Taiwan!' Korea whines, quickly silenced by China's annoyed glare.

The oldest nation looks over at Taiwan suspiciously. 'Taiwan, what's that notebook there?'

She immediately slams it closed with a blush. 'J-Just some notes!'

Japan slides her a knowing look and she blushes even deeper. China glances between the two and shakes his head, deciding he doesn't want to know.

Iceland sighs in defeat, removing his glasses and shaking out his platinum hair. 'We should go somewhere on our own. In secret.'

'I suggest Canada,' Hong Kong says blankly, still staring down at his manga.

'Where?' Iceland tilts his head in confusion.

'…How about Malaysia?'

'Too hot.'

'America, then?'

'England would find out straight away from that loudmouth.'

'Romania?'

'That guy's insane.'

'Bulgaria's pretty sane.'

'Apparently insane enough to be dating Romania, though.'

'Switzerland.'

'I don't fancy being shot.'

'Fine,' Hong Kong gives up, pushing his manga aside to lock eyes with Iceland. 'What do you suggest?'

Iceland thinks for a moment, popping another liquorice candy into his mouth. 'How about… Italy?'

'He'd tell Japan right away!' Hong Kong protests softly, not wanting to be heard by his siblings.

'I mean, South Italy,' Iceland specifies. 'Rome, Naples, Capri… why not?'

Hong Kong thinks for a moment, then beckons Iceland across the table and the smaller nation leans over so the Asian can whisper in his ear.

'We'll book our flights at one of your private airlines, from Reykjavik to Rome,' Hong Kong breathes into Iceland's ear. 'Tell your family you've taken a week away to do charity work around the country and we'll go spend the week on holiday.'

Iceland nods nervously, hearing the clinking of shattering glass from Norway's general direction.

Hong Kong leans back with one of his sweet micro-smiles, already looking forward to the warm climate of Mediterranean lands.

Iceland clears his throat, fighting down a blush. 'What do we do with Mr. Puffin and Mr. Panda?'

'Take them with us, of course,' Hong Kong answers easily. 'We can't leave the kids behind by themselves.' He grins and raises his voice, 'What kind of parents would we be?'

'Sh-shut up, stupid, we're not parents,' Iceland stutters with a glare. 'Stop trying to piss off Norway!'

'Oh…?' Hong Kong raises an eyebrow, moving towards Iceland. 'Well, if I really wanted to piss him off, I would do this…'

'NOPE,' Iceland immediately objects, shoving Hong Kong away and picking up their things. 'We're leaving. Now.'

'Damn it,' Hong Kong mutters, hurrying after a quickly escaping Iceland. He can feel Norway's murderous gaze tracking him all the way to the door.

'Aww, why is Ice so cold?' Taiwan complains, puffing her cheeks out.

'Maybe some sunshine will defrost him,' Japan remarks quietly, an amused glint in his eye.

'Hong Kong's not hot enough?' Korea snickers at his siblings.

'Stop that, aru,' China commands. 'Your humour sucks.'

-page break-

The following week drags like a dog drags its butt; which is to say it is awkward and nobody quite knows what to say. Iceland avoids as much of Norway's questioning as possible, locking himself away in his room and pretending to practice playing his electric violin.

One morning, after the battle for the bathroom ends, Iceland decides to put Hong Kong's plan into action. The Nordics sit around the dining table, eating breakfast and inhaling gallons of coffee.

'Hey, Mom?' Iceland catches Finland's attention.

'Yes, dear?' Finland sighs; already given in to the fact the nickname is going to stick.

'I'm going to be away for a week for a charity event,' Iceland informs his family, gazing down into the murky depths of his coffee mug. He calmly takes a sip.

'Oh, that's wonderful!' Finland beams proudly. 'Make sure to be careful and pack a first aid kit!'

Norway narrows his eyes suspiciously. 'What charity event might this be?'

'A fundraiser run by _EdYOUcation_ to raise money to buy books for schools,' Iceland lies smoothly, having prepared for a barrage of questions from his brother.

'And what exactly happens at this event?' Norway asks, settling into his chair.

'We run a bunch of stalls and workshops in different cities for a week.'

'What's your duty in all this?'

Denmark rolls his eyes. 'Leave the kid alone, Nor, he's a big boy now, he can-'

'Stay out of this,' Norway growls viciously at Denmark, who nervously falls silent. Norway then turns back to Iceland with a peaceful and calm façade. 'Go on, Ice.'

'I'll be selling liquorice,' Iceland replies with a touch of apprehension.

'Which places are you going?'

'Reykjavik, Akureyri, and Keflavik.'

Norway leans back in his chair, studying Iceland with calculating eyes.

Iceland stares back, tilting his head innocently. 'I can go, right?'

His brother rocks forward with a sigh. 'Fine, fine,' he agrees, waving his hand dismissively.

'H've f'n,' Sweden mumbles awkwardly at the platinum haired boy.

'Sure thing, Dad,' Iceland replies and hides a little smile of victory behind his coffee mug.

-In the Asian house-

'Hey, I'm going to be away for a week,' Hong Kong announces, barging into the living room where his family is drinking tea and playing video games.

'Okay!' the other nations respond, waving at him, as if he is leaving already.

'Don't get arrested,' China warns him without looking away from the screen.

Hong Kong stands there for a moment, before sliding the screen door shut and walking away.

A/N: short chapter is short. Should I continue? Excuse my terrible headcanons.


	2. When in Rome

A/N: a few people wanted more. So. Um, yeah. LET'S GET ITALIAN.

The awaited day finally arrives. Iceland grabs his suitcase and calls a taxi, waving through the window at his family as the car pulls away. Mr. Puffin pokes at his coat insistently, wiggling the tips of his wings around.

'Oh, that's right,' Iceland remembers, picking him up. 'I didn't tell you where we're going! We're not actually going to a charity event. We're going on a trip to south Italy!'

Mr. Puffin stills for a moment, before drawing his wings together and waddling to the other side of the car and sitting down with a huff, sulkily facing away from Iceland.

'Oh come on, don't be like that,' Iceland coaxes the upset bird. 'It'll be fun!'

Mr. Puffin glances back at Iceland with disapproving eyes and continues to ignore him.

When the two of them arrive at the airport, Hong Kong is already there, holding a sleeping dwarf panda in his arms. Iceland waves and Mr. Puffin glares from his perch on Iceland's shoulder, angrily puffing out his feathers.

'Hey Ice,' Hong Kong greets the Nordic nation with a warm smile as they board their private plane. 'What's up with Mr. Puffball?'

Iceland tilts his head away from the mass of feathery displeasure on his shoulder. 'He doesn't like flying. He also doesn't like being called a puffball.'

'How come you never taught him to fly?' Hong Kong asks curiously.

'I tried,' Iceland sighs, plucking Mr. Puffin off his shoulder and lowering the bird onto the top of his suitcase. 'He can't use his wings any better than a chicken can.'

'He's a chicken in the body of a puffin,' Hong Kong chuckles, lowering the sleeping Mr. Panda onto a comfy little couch in the cabin and steps closer towards Iceland. 'Well, we're actually alone for once.'

He links his fingers through Iceland's and pulls the Nordic boy closer. Iceland instinctively panics, but tightens his grip around Hong Kong's hands to steady himself. Hong Kong draws them together until their foreheads are touching and by now Iceland is having trouble breathing.

Mr. Puffin, alarmed by his master's distress, launches himself of his perch, barrelling towards Hong Kong and violently headbutts the unsuspecting nation in the side.

Iceland is frozen in confusion as Hong Kong suddenly topples out of his line of sight.

'God damn it,' Hong Kong growls, swatting Mr. Puffin away. 'You literal cockblock.'

Mr. Puffin backs off and waddles towards Iceland and turns back to face Hong Kong, spreading his wings as if defending his master from a threat.

Iceland bursts out laughing, unable to take the situation seriously. 'Oh god… you just… Mr. Puffin… AHAHAHAHA…'

Hong Kong glowers at Mr. Puffin, his face dark with annoyance. He grabs the bird by his wings, ignoring the struggles of the creature and transports him over to the couch and shoves him into the sleeping arms of Mr. Panda. The tiny panda immediately clutches the bird in a vice-like grip, still asleep and snoring softly. Mr. Puffin squirms indignantly, but can't escape the panda's arms.

'There we go,' Hong Kong huffs, walking back to where Iceland is collapsed on the ground and trying to contain his giggles. Iceland suddenly finds himself grabbed by an annoyed Hong Kong.

'What's so funny?' the Asian asks darkly, gazing down at Iceland.

Iceland's laughter dies away as he struggles to breathe. 'You… pff… got your ass handed to you by a puffin.' He grins like a fox at Hong Kong's irritation.

'Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Ice,' Hong Kong threatens, an almost unnoticeable blush of embarrassment staining his cheeks. 'Or I will.'

But of course, Iceland notices. 'Aww, what happened to those kung fu skills, Hong Kong?'

In a blur of motion, Hong Kong flips Iceland and pins him face-down on the floor, pushing his arm against his back in an immobilizing position.

Iceland yelps at the impact. 'I give! I give! Stop!'

Hong Kong steps away, satisfied, releasing the startled Nordic. 'Don't be a smartass, Ice.'

Iceland sits up and rubs his wrist with a pout. 'I know you wrestle with your siblings and stuff, but I'm different, okay! I don't have the strength to fight you. My country doesn't even have an army. I can't use magic like Norway, I'm not buff like Den or Sweden, and Finland is just plain terrifying.'

Hong Kong smiles in amusement. 'But I still like you the best.' He leans down and plants a quick kiss on Iceland's forehead before helping the nation up. 'Just don't test me.'

The two of them banter back and forth during the flight, accompanied by Mr. Panda's snoring and Mr. Puffin's squawks of discontent and protectiveness.

They both grow excited as their pilot announces they are beginning to land.

'So where are we staying?' Iceland asks enthusiastically, gazing out the window at the patterned blankets of Italian land.

'Ummm…' Hong Kong scratches the back of his head. 'I figured we'd just check into whatever hotels we found on our way around.'

'What about transport?' Iceland questions, his nose still pressed against the window.

'I suggest we don't try to drive in Italy,' Hong Kong replies, recalling Japan's description of North Italy's insane driving. 'We can call taxis or catch public transport.'

'Is there anything you particularly want to do while we're here?'

'You mean besides you?'

'HONG KONG.'

'Geez, calm down. I think you've gotten too used to Norway stalking you everywhere. Paranoid?'

'I-I don't know, actually,' Iceland admits with a frown, turning to face Hong Kong. 'I mean, my brain is probably conditioned by Norway to act proper all the time, but then again, I don't have any relationship experience anyways… also thanks to Norway…'

'Well, at least it's just your brother,' Hong Kong sighs. 'I've got both China and England watching me. Parents are the worst.'

'Excuse me, but I think Norway is more extreme than both of them combined,' Iceland retorts. 'You've got it easy compared to me.'

'Maybe,' Hong Kong huffs in amusement. 'But screw them. We're on our own for once. Let's have fun.'

-page break-

'We should've booked it ahead of time,' Iceland sighs, wheeling his suitcase into the last available hotel room. 'Now we only have one bed.'

'Shouldn't be a problem,' Hong Kong smirks, making Iceland' face heat up. 'We should go down and check out the bar. I'm kind of thirsty.'

'I'm not legal age yet,' Iceland frowns. 'Or have you forgotten?'

'Don't look so offended, of course I didn't forget,' Hong Kong reassures him. 'You're not legal age in Iceland, but you are in Italy. Unless you don't drink alcohol at all?'

'Well, I have a couple times before,' Iceland remembers. 'But I'm not sure how good my tolerance is. I wonder what kind of drunk I am. Denmark get's even stupider, Sweden gets friendly, and Norway gets wildly inappropriate.'

'What about Finland?' Hong Kong asks curiously, locking the door as they exit the room, leaving Mr. Panda and Mr. Puffin behind.

'He… doesn't change,' Iceland pauses. 'It's like he doesn't get drunk at all.'

'That's kind of terrifying in its own way,' Hong Kong acknowledges as they head down to the hotel bar. They're greeted by smooth classical music, shining tiles and twinkling chandeliers. Glasses clink and evening gowns swish. Italian fashion is as impeccable as ever.

'I feel underdressed,' Iceland whispers, glancing down at his usual jacket and bow with lace up boots. 'I forgot how Italians are about fashion.'

Hong Kong looks down at his simple button up shirt and jeans. '…Wanna go shopping?'

'Won't the stores be closed?' Iceland looks out the ornamental glass windows at the night-time city lights.

'Some cities never sleep,' Hong Kong replies, taking Iceland's hand and leading him out the revolving door. Through a whirl of glass, they're transported to the outside world. The warm breeze stirs moth wings beneath streetlamps, carrying the scent of Italian spices and roses. The clicking of shoes against the pavement and steady hum of cars echo around them.

'How romantic,' Iceland murmurs, tugging on Hong Kong's hand. 'Let's go find a clothing store.'

They wander to and fro, darting in and out of little shops, Iceland forcing Hong Kong to stop for gelato, which Hong Kong insists on feeding to Iceland, despite the embarrassed nation's protests.

As they enter another brightly lit clothing store, a familiar voice drifts across the room, alerting them both.

'But I don't know…' the voice objects unsurely. 'It looks… odd?'

'You're just not used to it,' an Italian accented voice replies. 'It's Emporio Armani. Don't doubt Mr. Armani.'

Hong Kong puts a finger to his lips and beckons Iceland to follow him. The two of them tiptoe to the other side of and peek around a clothing rack to find Romano and America, the former dressing the latter in the latest Italian fashion.

'They're friends…?' Iceland whispers in confusion.

'I'm not doubting him,' America says, tilting his head at the mirror. 'It's just kind of… transparent.'

'Only slightly,' Romano rolls his eyes with a smirk. 'I like it that way.'

'Oh?' America glances at him, arching an eyebrow. 'Well, fine, if you like it…'

The Italian smirks and kisses the taller nation. 'I'm buying it.'

'They're dating…?' Iceland's eyes grow wide and Hong Kong shrugs helplessly.

'I have no idea,' the Asian comments, studying the two older nations in surprise.

America suddenly glances over, his blue eyes glinting behind his frames. 'Hong Kong? Hey bro! Who's that you got with you?'

Romano whips his head around to fix the busted nations with an embarrassed glare. 'What!?'

'Shit shit shit…' Hong Kong mutters under his breath, stepping out from their hiding spot and pulling a panicking Iceland with him. 'Um. This is Iceland.'

A/N: That's it for now. Eh. Tell me if you want more?


	3. Strange Evening

Chapter 3:

A/N: Here, have some more fangirl rambling. P.S. Romerica should totally be called Americano. Also, I don't know shit about fashion, I just pretend.

There is a short stare-down between the four nations, Romano frustrated at being caught acting sweet, America curious and confused, Iceland awkward and nervous, and Hong Kong silently panicking.

'…Are you two going out?' Hong Kong and America ask simultaneously.

'You answer first,' America demands.

'Is that a yes then?' Hong Kong raises an eyebrow.

'I can't say,' America replies, glancing at Romano, who is refusing to look at him.

'Keeping secrets, are we?' Hong Kong prompts.

'It's not a secret,' America protests.

'So you are going out with South Italy, then.'

'No, I mean, yes, I mean, maybe,' America stutters, glancing between Romano and Hong Kong.

'So if I just call England now and ask…' Hong Kong begins, pulling his phone out.

'No! Don't!' America cries out in alarm. 'We're together, okay! Don't call England, he'll tell Spain and I'm going to get my ass kicked by a crazy former conquistador pirate matador!'

Romano joins in on the panic. 'Hong Kong, per favore, don't tell anyone! Belgium will find out too! Or worse, France! Or even worse, Hungary!'

'Alright, alright!' Hong Kong backs off, putting his phone away. He points a finger at Iceland. 'I won't tell if you won't tell.'

Iceland fidgets under the gazes of the two older nations. 'Umm… ah…'

'Tch,' Romano clicks his tongue irritably. 'None of my business.'

'We'll call a truce!' America announces, cheerfully extending his hand towards Hong Kong and Iceland. 'We'll tell absolutely no one!'

Hong Kong accepts the offered hand and so does a hesitant Iceland.

'U-um, South Italy?' Iceland stammers shyly.

'Just call me Romano,' the Italian replies coldly. 'What is it?'

'While we're all here…' Iceland starts, sliding his gaze over to Hong Kong, away from the intimidating Italian. 'Could you… help us pick out some clothes?'

Romano looks the nervous nation up and down. 'You seem like you'd be more suited to dresses.'

'Hey, be nice,' America nudges Romano gently.

'Actually, I agree,' Hong Kong says with a grin. 'We should take a look at some evening gowns.'

'HELL NO,' Iceland immediately objects. 'NOT AGAIN. YOU WON'T GET ME ALIVE.'

'Again?' America questions.

Iceland blushes furiously and Romano feels a prick of sympathy for the poor nation. He sighs and tries to change the subject. 'How about suits? You can never go wrong with a suit.'

'I don't, like, feel sophisticated enough for that,' Hong Kong disagrees.

'Tsk, fine, amateurs,' Romano huffs at the rejection. 'Stay here; I'll go grab some stuff.'

The Italian whisks away, already grabbing something off the nearest rack, barely glancing at it.

'Trust Romano and his fashion sense,' America laughs. 'Wear it, even if you don't think it suits you. Or he'll get really offended.'

'You're Hong Kong's half brother, right?' Iceland asks, intimidated by the experienced nation.

'Yeah!' America confirms. 'We look nothing alike, right? But Iggy raised us both.'

Iceland glances back and forth between the tall blonde and the lanky Asian boy. 'Yeah…'

'Aww, c'mon, don't be shy, kid,' America encourages with a huge grin. 'We're practically family! Romano too!'

'Well this family is even weirder than my own,' Hong Kong chuckles. 'But not Iceland's family.'

'Woah, hey, what's that supposed to mean?!' Iceland complains indignantly.

'Having trouble with the in-laws, bro?' America teases with a wink. Hong Kong simply smirks.

'What are you implying?!' Iceland cries out, blushing like crazy.

'Leave him alone, bastards,' Romano points accusingly at America and Hong Kong, having already returned from shopping. 'Here, take these.'

'You already paid?' Iceland stutters in surprise. 'You really shouldn't have, we-'

'My country, my rules,' Romano cuts him off. 'Come on, America, leave the lovebirds alone, let's go.'

'Alright, honey,' America coos, earning himself a smack on the arm. He grins at the younger nations before leaving. 'Have fun, you two.'

Hong Kong and Iceland stand in a dazed silence, trying to process the implications of what just occurred. Iceland peeks into the bags Romano handed him and makes a strangled sound.

'What?' Hong Kong's head snaps up. 'What is it?'

'HE BOUGHT ME A FUCKING DRESS.' Iceland darts out onto the street, hurriedly shoving the door aside, only to see South Italy and America running into the distance, cackling evilly.

Hong Kong steps out behind him, trying to suppress a smile. 'I guess Romano has a sense of humour I didn't know about. America's probably rubbing off on him.'

Iceland is frozen, silently opening and shutting his mouth. '…What?'

'Let me see,' Hong Kong reaches into the bag and pulls out a beautiful dress. The strapless gown is a softly luminous pearl color, belted around the waist in a ruffled set of blue ribbons, the fluttering hemline ending at knee length. Hong Kong lines the dress up to the Nordic nation's slim figure and hums appreciatively. 'South Italy does have good fashion sense.'

Iceland slaps his hand away. 'I'm not wearing that! No! Pervert!'

'But it's _Valentino Roma_… and pretty damn expensive,' Hong Kong raises an eyebrow while checking the tags. 'And he'll get offended if you return it…'

'Gift it to your sister,' Iceland suggests.

'The color doesn't suit her.'

'DAMMIT HONG KONG.'

'It's classy.'

'HONG KONG.'

'I'll buy you a year's worth of liquorice.'

'I'M NOT- wait… are you serious?' Iceland pauses to consider. He shakes his head. 'NO.'

'It was worth a shot.'

Iceland growls threateningly at Hong Kong. The Asian simply pats him on the head, finding him adorable beyond measure and leads him down the lamp lit streets. The Nordic boy mutters resentfully in Icelandic, but doesn't pull away. Aimless strolling finds them back in their hotel, somehow with the addition of a bottle of wine and two glasses.

The two of them are quite for a moment, gazing at the sparkling lights in the lobby, when Hong Kong speaks up softly. 'What do you think the roof is like?'

Iceland frowns. 'The elevator doesn't go up to the roof, only the top floor.'

Hong Kong takes his hand and winks at him with a mischievous glint in his eye. They take the elevator to the top floor, where after a little wandering, they find a staircase leading up to a door.

A very obvious, large sign on the door emblazed with the words AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY stares them down disapprovingly as Iceland lifts the heavy bar across the door and tugs at the doorhandle.

'It's locked,' he sighs, stepping back.

'Hold these for a second,' Hong Kong murmurs, handing the wine and glasses over to Ice and slipping a set of lockpicks out of his pocket.

'Um, why do you have those?' Iceland raises and eyebrow at Hong Kong, who smiles back sheepishly and puts a finger to his lips. Iceland rolls his eyes, accustomed to the Asian's strange habits.

Within seconds the door clicks and slides open, revealing a deserted rooftop, half-illuminated by the hundreds of lights on the exterior of the hotel. The cobalt sky stretches overhead, dusted with stars like glitter scattered across dark velvet, the occasional smoky cloud shadowing the charming twinkle.

Iceland drifts over to the ledge, setting the glasses down and pouring out the wine. He looks back to see Hong Kong still standing by the door, gazing up at the sky.

'What are you doing?' Iceland beckons, holding out a glass of wine for the other nation.

Hong Kong shakes his head and joins Iceland, accepting the wine and delicately taking a sip. 'We just don't have this kind of view at home. Because of all the skyscrapers, you know?'

Iceland drinks too, feeling pleasant warmth swirling up his throat. 'You do have a ridiculous amount.'

Hong Kong moves up onto the ledge, swinging his long legs over to dangle in the empty air between them and the city lights twenty storeys beneath them.

Iceland's eyes widen in alarm. 'What are you doing?'

'Hmm?' Hong Kong kicks the air lazily. 'When you have a lot of skyscrapers, this kind of thing becomes normal.' He pats the ledge beside him. 'Come, try it.'

Iceland fidgets, carefully peering over the edge. 'Heights make me uncomfortable…'

'I won't let you fall,' Hong Kong reassures him, offering a hand.

Iceland nervously climbs onto the ledge, one hand balancing his glass of wine and the other wrapped tightly around Hong Kong's fingers. He slowly lowers his feet over the edge, his heart jumping erratically at the unusual feeling.

'See, it isn't so bad,' Hong Kong pulls Iceland closer, wrapping his arms around the nervous nation.

'Mmm,' Iceland hums in agreement, looking over at Hong Kong's profile. The warm light, close and distant reflect in his eyes and turns his dark hair to golden brown, a few locks dancing in the slight breeze.

A sudden gust of wind pushes against them and Iceland instinctively latches onto Hong Kong, afraid of tumbling off the roof of the tall building. A slam is heard as the door across the roof is blown shut, followed by a heavy clang.

'Oh no no no,' Iceland breathes in alarming realization. He dashes across the roof, followed closely by Hong Kong, to find the door impossible to open. The bar has fallen back into place, trapping them out on the rooftop. 'What do we do now?!'

A/N: ha, yep, um. So. Tell me if you want more? Also tell me if you want Ice in a dress. It's so stupid and fluffy, cause I'm shit at writing relationships. Alright, bye.


End file.
